living in fear of the allostatic load
hopscotching tire marks on a bare and open road
do we drag down this life to where life dare not go?
we are living in fear of the allostatic load.
if 'when' is an if, and 'if' is a when
then what's never happened will happen again
the one-armed men will count upwards to ten
on phantoms taken by the allostatic load.
(of hair: massage scalp, condition, brush regularly, dry gently - keep what is lost in fistfuls, dead hard protein, dead fast head spins)
when limbs give way under the allostatic load
softened up by atrophy
trapped under the debris of a broken home
familiar hands will come for me.
we can hold hands if we promise, to go to the same place, at the same exact time